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Being called upon and living houses

Submitted by rob on Tue, 04/19/2016 - 08:37

I’ve been busy lately with a lot of creative stuff. The new episode of VCoT is complete, which means that I’m over halfway to my original goal for episodes. Things are going well enough that I’m actually thinking about creating a few more episodes. I've created a few graphic promos over the past several weeks for various folks. All of which, have turned out exceptionally well. Mostly though, I’ve been writing for Cinevore, who seem to be firing on all cylinders these days with a barrage of projects. What I like more than the excitement of getting to make things up for a living, is the feeling of mutual respect from other professional artists. I want to be the kind of professional that other artists come to to help solve problems or work on projects, and that is starting to happen. YAY!

I’m still working on/planning the live reading for June. As the date gets closer, I find myself getting a bit more nervous about it. It will be nice to hear my words spoken aloud by others for new projects yet developed. I just hope the audience likes it and also I hope that there is an audience.

We’ll be going to my hometown this weekend to visit my dad. He and his girlfriend usually make the trek to see us, so it will be nice, now that my son is a bit older, to go spend a few days with grandpa. I’m hoping it’s relaxing and fun. Laughter always comes a bit easy around my dad, he’s that kind of guy. I know it’s been hard for everyone since my mom passed away but he really does his best to make everyone feel comfortable, well fed, and entertained. I’m sure he’s looking forward to playing with his grandson who is now running, laughing, growling, and exploring and frankly a bit more fun than he was when dad last saw him. The two, I’m sure, will have a lot in common as my son gets older. I sense that he is a little bit more like Indiana Jones and I am much too academic NOT to be Henry Jones Sr. Funny, huh.

My brother, Monty, who has worked as a framer for most of his adult life, once told me that houses are living things. That if a house lays empty for too long, it goes still and starts to decay. Houses are imbued with the lives of those who inhabit them. We fill them with laughter and sorrow and we grow up inside of them and some families even do this over the course of decades and centuries. When changes happen or when people go away, the feeling of a house changes too. A certain chair sits empty most of the time and strangers wonder why there is a collection of ashtrays even though no one smokes. For the guests one would suppose. My son will be playing in this place, the same place my sister and I had played for eighteen years. A place where my marker scribbles still adorn a few of the walls. It will be eerie and happy and make everyone feel older. But there will also be steak and beer and jokes about those still here and even more about those long gone. There is a part of me, when I return home, that feels like a ghost. I am different yet the same, the town is different yet the same and while I maybe make the trip there twice a year, I feel like it is never very far away from my thoughts.